It was late. Both Cas and Sam were awake waiting for the last Winchester to return. Rufus was gone for the night. Anna was in her room, about two stories up meditating. Something Sam should be doing as well, but couldn't bring himself to. Cas watched as the young man checked his phone for the eighth time in as many hours.
It was minutes later and with a slight flamboyance that Dean returned. He threw the door open and waltzed into the room, humming a soft song. He moved about as though nothing was wrong; infact he looked rather smug.
"Where have you been?" Sam asked in a testy voice. Full on bitch face.
"Oh just mapping out the evil lair." A victorious smile spread across his lips.
"How'd you- Did you smoke in?" Sam's voice raised a fraction of an octave in worry, "Dean that was too risky!" Sam objected, not that it made much of a difference.
"You fool," Castiel interjected.
Dean brushed them both off. Determined not to let them kill his buzz. "Look, I found this Abbadon chick and damn, I wouldn't mind tangling with her anytime."
Cas felt his eyes widen in reaction to his panic. "We don't know what she is capable of, you've put us all in danger!" His words were followed by the room's only window shattering and their door flung open by a sheer concussive force; similar to a grenade going off. The shock wave rippled through the room tossing the men as it passed.
Having been the furthest from the source, Castiel recovered first. Standing on aching legs, he looked up to see a woman with lustrous red hair. She held her head high, proud, almost regally.
"So this is where the cockroaches hide." At her words Dean rolled over awkwardly from his position on the ground. He choked out the word "Abbadon" around a mouth full of blood.
It was unmistakable when Cas's body went into fight or flight mode. Fight was not an option. A few moments stretched into minutes as he assessed the situation. The priest he could see Abbadon as she stood in the doorway before him. To the right of her, making to the left of Cas himself, lay an unresponsive Sam. He was standing by the window as it exploded inward, dropping the man almost instantly. Opposite Sam lay Dean.
Cas heard Dean quip, "How'd you follow me?"
Good a distraction, maybe he could get to Sam and heal him. It would make it easier to flee if he were conscious. Quick as he could manage Castiel flashed across the room.
"You're not as smooth as you think, and neither are you!" Abbadon punctuated the end of her statement by flinging herself to intercept Cas. Impossibly, she knocks the priest out of his trajectory and next to Dean, placing herself in the middle of the room.
"Ah, ah," Abbadon chided, "Can't have you healing little Sammy here." She looks down at the still unconscious man. Anna appeared then, materializing just inside the doorway. The instant she lands Anna launches her attack. Swirling fires of hell fly towards Abbadon. The woman's clothing singe, but otherwise she appears unharmed by the attack.
In that moment Castiel acts again. This time he seizes the shotgun and flashes out of the room. He escapes.
"Cas? Cas! What the hell!" To Dean's chagrin the priest abandons them, and takes his only weapon too. Dean struggles with more vigor to support his own body weight. One hand clutching the cheap dresser.
A twisted smile creeps on Abbadon's face as she enjoys the man's suffering, both physical and mental. She raises both her hands in the directions of the brothers. An unseen force slams each man against the nearest wall. The shock wakes Sammy up by whiplashing his head backwards with an unhealthy crack. Fear and worry warred within' Dean.
Anna stills as her throat closes up, beginning to choke. Angry red lines appear in rings around her neck. She struggles through it and lunges at Abbdon in spite. From seemingly nowhere, Anna drew a short blade. One that nobody recognized or knew about. Swiftly she sheathed it deep into Abbadon's shoulder. A bright flash emanated from the wound. With a shriek of outrage Abbadon shoves Anna away, the short blade tumbling with its owner.
The lack of air finally proved grave as Anna began to convulse on the floor. Both the Winchesters remained pinned, and helpless.
"Blue Eyes are more heartless than Green Eyes in some ways. Even worse than us demons you could even say." Her smile widened at the scene before her.
Dean is focused on Anna as she was slowly dying on the floor.
"Demon? You're a demon?" Sam's words sounded foggy. As though he wasn't fully aware.
"How else can I do this?" Abbadon clenched her outstretched hands into fists. A melody of irrational pain rebounded around her. And it was beautiful. Each man was experiencing his own innards seizing.
In that moment a tinnitus inducing 'Boom!' overpowered the screams. Instantly the internal pain ceased, and the Winchesters are dropped onto the floor.
Unable to do much else other than watch, Dean saw as Abbadon doubled over and glared out the open window. She released a wordless shriek that was barely drowned out by a second 'Boom!'
Silent now, she has fallen to her knees with eyes still focused outside. Blood splatter decorated a circle around her. After a moment the final consecutive 'Boom! Boom!' tore through the room. Body damaged and wrecked the demon finally fled by flashing away.
The instinctive need to identify a threat persuaded Dean to crawl until he could see clearly what had chased Abbadon away. A dirty trench-coated man came into view examining the shotgun he held as though he'd never seen it before.
"This is rather effective," Cas mutters.
Castiel heard Dean moan in pain, and looked about the room. From his original vantage he couldn't see anything else besides Abbadon. Sam is slumped and making small whimpering noises and clutching his head. Dean is moaning in pain and trying to drag himself towards an unresponsive Anna.
Not good. In a fraction of a second Castiel brought himself to Anna's side. She wasn't breathing. He pressed his fingers against her artery, searching frantically for a pulse. There was no reassuring thrum of life under her skin.
'Remain calm. Remain calm. Reach for your strength Castiel. You can do this.' The priest had to reassure himself as he closes his eyes and searches for her faith in him. Grace swelled meekly in response, but nothing like the last time he healed her. She must be slipping away. A dead woman can't have faith in anything.
Doing the only thing he could, Dean cradled Anna's head and shoulders in his arms as Castiel began to glow faintly. He heard Castiel release a frustrated growl, and the aura of his grace grew slightly. Almost too bright for Dean to look at. He held his breath, wishing with all his might that Castiel wouldn't fail.
Anna died in Dean's arms. He knew the moment she passed; it was the exact moment that Castiel's grace suddenly vanished. Everything seems so dark now. Pain, more searing than Abbadon could have ever inflicted, swam through Dean Winchester. His shoulders shook silently. Carefully he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. To Castiel it looked like Dean was trying not to wake her up. If not for the bright red marks, she could be mistaken for sleeping.
The angel stifled the blinding emotions that roll about him. There was more to do. And this place was compromised. Efficiently he strode over to Sam and dragged the dazed and half aware man over to his brother and Anna's body.
This part wouldn't be easy. He's only transported one living thing before, and it was Ezekiel's pet bird after it landed on his shoulder. Anna's body was now an object, and therefore easier for him to manipulate. Sam was large, but his mind was pliant, as he probably suffered from at least a concussion. So that should also be easier. Dean would be the most difficult aspect.
This is proving to be an exhausting day. He took a moment to jar Dean's thought process out of order. To the Winchester it would feel like a headache. In those few moments of disorientation Castiel flexed his metaphysical muscles and forcefully enveloped all four of them in his grace.
Castiel got them inside the Impala. Dean as driver. Anna in the back with Sam and Cas riding shotgun. Soon as Dean recovered his wits they drove off in a hurry. It was well past 3am, and fortunately the darkness covered their departure.
A brief phone call to Bobby got them headed into the countryside. The cult seems to have become interested in their little group, and clearly the city isn't safe for them right now. It wasn't too long before the Impala pulled up to an undeniably abandoned house.
If Castiel was one to believe in such a thing, he might have assumed it was haunted. Anywhere there is metal, there is rust. Anywhere there is wood, there is mold. Not much of a yard remained. Grass grew sparsely, as though the soil had been salted. An early morning breeze blew and it almost seemed like the house groaned under the effort to remain upright.
Slowly Castiel turned to Dean cynically.
"What?" He asked defensively, "Bobby says this place is off the map. He's been around the block. I trust him."
Both men exited the car and stood in silence, simply taking a moment to accept where their lives have brought them, before getting down to business. As Dean hefted Anna's body out of the car, cradling her like a child, Castiel heard him mutter darkly "A real fortress of solitude. Safe and alone."
Sanitation is a problem. Castiel has healed Sam's external wound, and cleared the fog induced by a concussion. Bacteria managed to worm it's way into the man's system through. Apparently the back seat of the Imapala isn't the cleanest. Glancing at Dean, Cas tried not to think of the various germs swarming along the leather interior. Infections are a serious concern. One Cas will have to monitor.
A person's circulatory system is vast, especially for someone as large as Sam Winchester. And Castiel had done much that day. Sam lay asleep on an old blanket at Cas's feet. The priest found he had almost no energy left, and decided to let Sam's body attempt to fight the fever naturally. For now.
Weakly Cas slid down to the floor, and leaned his back against Sam's side. A few peaceful moments passed as both men rested. Dean made himself busy trying to secure the rickety house.
'More of a shack really' He muttered to himself. How could he lock a door that barely held itself together at it's hinges? Gently, probably to keep from waking Sammy, Dean asked, "You said the top floor of that building was warded. How's that happen?"
"Wards are constructed in a similar manner to the enchantment on your amulet." To emphasize Cas pulled the necklace from beneath his button up.
In the privacy of his own mind, Dean had to admit that was a sight he rather enjoyed. Castiel was beneath him on the floor. Hair and clothing in disarray from the fight. He was wearing Dean's necklace, looking up at him with those blue fucking eyes. And... he was still talking to Dean about the wards.
'Shit' He missed all of that. "Woah, woah Cas. Is there anything you know that might be useful now?"
That made the priest pause, "I do know a warding for demons. We can't use anything for Green or Blue Eyes. Obviously." He then huffs a breath as though he is about to face a monumental chore, before hoisting himself up.
"Hey, buddy you look as bad as Sammy." Dean moved to help but Cas waved him off.
"I'll make wards. You go prepare Anna's pyre." His voice croaked out.
Unable to argue that Dean grunted his agreement and exited through the slab of wood that barely resembled a door. It would be strange to put her to rest during the day. Something that seems proper in the sanctity of night. Instead pink hues of sunrise surround him. Both himself and Cas had been moving as efficiently as they could but exhaustion and grief bogged them down. Songbirds off in the distance caused a sense of disconnection. Almost as if this world is moving around him without his own interaction.
His body moved mechanically, a limp quickly developed from when Abbadon threw him across the room. Studiously he ignored the sensation and went about gathering dry wood and binding everything together. Something to support the weight of Anna's dead body. A body that won't move again, and won't speak again. She won't be there to tease Sam when he makes a stupid mistake. Won't be there to straighten out the more irritable children. Won't be there, for anything. Dean won't hear her laughing in the other room or scold him for leaning his chair back in the kitchen.
The sound of wood clanking drew Dean from his thoughts. His right hand is shaking, and the edges of his vision is blurring slightly. 'No, no not going to do this. Not now.' Dean used more force than was necessary to add the last piece, as he emotionally got himself under control.
The pyre is low to the ground, as the wood burns it will loose the ability to support the body.. also Dean had never made one before. He tried his best to leave the top level, and to allow air to pass through in order to keep the fire hot enough. They don't want to cook her, they want a flames hot enough to cremate. And there is something disrespectful about adding a log or two half way through. Like it would be reducing the purifying act into a menial task akin to a camping trip.
The first part of his task completed Dean retrieved the cleanest cloth he could find. With reverence he wrapped Anna. Unfortunately he needed a few different bundles of cloth. It's not that she's large. In fact she probably didn't need to be as fully covered as she ended up. A part of Dean felt that if he kept who it was on that pyre hidden, the less it would hurt to see them go. Gently he arranged her beautiful hair around her before finally covering that as well.
Looking down at the mixture of fabrics, the deeply hidden romantic side of Dean reflected that the motley vestige is appropriate. It suit her to leave them like this. She was a blend of two worlds and probably the two most important people in her life would be there to see her off.
It was then Castiel walked out to meet him. Which, the fact that he hadn't flashed over is a testament to his exhaustion. Without prompting both men stooped to lift her atop the wood. "Let us do this now. While the wards are fresh," Castiel said unceremoniously.
"Fresh? As in- Christ Cas!" Dean exclaimed, "You made them in blood!" Not waiting for an objection he seized Cas's wrist to examine the poorly bandaged palm. Why would someone who did such a good job healing others not only hurt himself, but then treat it so poorly? The priest frustrated Dean beyond belief.
Too tired to fight or explain, Castiel let the man fret over him. It was soothing. Though Dean wasn't doing much more than grumbling and re-adjusting a perfectly fine bandage. Closing his eyes and let his feeling wash over him, Cas zoned out. It's an indulgence he's never had before.
The calm he felt in Anna, only yesterday, is something he's striving for. Forcefully suppressing his emotions is too demanding a task and only feels strained. Considering the bland life he'd lead before the Winchesters, living now through the full spectrum of emotions is.. well trying.
A small tug on his hand reminds him of where he is. He allows himself to feel cared for. Genuine happiness plants a tiny seed in him. Each innocent caress against his fingers and knuckles encouraged a warm glow. Too soon, it was over as he felt Dean still his mending.
When he opened his eyes, Castiel knew the world would keep moving, and he needs to deal with it. One more deep breath and he resigns himself to reality, "Okay, let's do this Dean." Cas looked up slightly into the Winchester's face. There was something in his expression he couldn't pinpoint. The little seed of happiness that'd taken root stirred.
"Cas," Dean said quietly. The word drew his eyes to Dean's lips as he continued to speak, "You're uh, your thoughts. I can hear them." It took a moment before Cas realized he was projecting. Smoothly he retracted his thoughts and his hand from Dean.
The unexpected tranquility is broken by the unpleasant shrill of Dean's cell phone. Quicker than ever an irritated Dean answers, "What?" with a snarl.
"Is there a reason why there is police tape around your motel room, blood splatter everywhere, and you are missing?" Rufus took a page out of Bobby's book and hid his concern behind crass words.
"Yeah look, there was a fight. Anna didn't make it. Gotta go man. Call Bobby to-" Dean started.
"Don't 'Gotta go man' me! You better tell me what the hell happened here!" Rufus raged on the other end of the line.
"Rufus. Call Bobby. We're putting Anna to rest right now!" Dean didn't wait for a response, angrily he hung up. He turned, favoring his uninjured leg, and lifted his hand slowly in Anna's direction. Slowly flames licked their way up the wood.
Side by side Cas and Dean stood. With intentional subtlety Dean coerced the flames into the proper intensity.
Neither man moved away until the blaze had begun to dwindle. The sun had climbed high at that point and Dean felt a hand rest on his shoulder.
"We will find Abbadon," Castiel said as though declaring a fact. Just before turning away Castiel used his last bit of strength to heal Dean's leg. He then retreated back into the shack. Once inside he checked on Sam, to discover his fever was starting to break already.
Quite ungracefully he fell over, deep asleep.